


let’s go somewhere they might discover us

by bettycooopers



Series: can we fuck and still be friends? [3]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Drunk Sex, F/M, Outdoor Sex, PWP, Smut, drunk archie is my favorite man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29671335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettycooopers/pseuds/bettycooopers
Summary: Archie’s synapses are clearly slower than usual, but he manages to look over at her subtly enough and raise his brow in awant to get out of heresort of way and Betty smiles, looking over to Kevin. “I think I’m going to let,” she pats Archie on the shoulder and raises her brows, “Sergeant Andrews here walk me home.”
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper
Series: can we fuck and still be friends? [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2180376
Comments: 5
Kudos: 92





	let’s go somewhere they might discover us

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i had thoughts after seeing the stills of the crew at the wyrm in 5x06 and, well...this happened. haha! ok. bye.
> 
> as always, thank you to [becca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/packedyoursaturday) for being my one woman marketing department.

Archie’s tipsy, and it’s kind of hot. 

Betty can tell he didn’t intend to really  _ drink _ tonight – and he’s not  _ drunk,  _ not in the way she’s seen him in the past – but he definitely drank more than he meant to. This is confirmed when she walks up to the bar on her own to grab them both waters, and Archie walks up behind her and slips his fingers into the back pocket of her jeans. Betty frowns at him over her shoulder, and he shrugs with a goofy grin on his face. “Toni gave us free shots,” he mumbles, leaning close to her ear in a way that looks, to anyone else, like he’s just leaning over the bar, “this is  _ Toni’s  _ fault.”

“This,” Betty glances in the direction of his hand on her ass, “is Toni’s fault?” Archie nods, laughing low and she can smell the tequila on his breath. “Let’s get you some water, okay?”

Archie frowns, but Betty orders the waters and presses one into his free hand, stepping back so his fingers slip out of her pocket. He plucks the straw out of the plastic cup and discards it on the bar, tipping his head back and chugging the water. Betty watches as little rivulets slide down over his chin and down to his neck from where it’s leaking out of his mouth. She presses her lips together so she won’t stand up on her toes and lick them. He finishes and puts the empty cup down on the bar, raising his brow at her. “There,” he says, a smile on his lips. “Happy?”

Betty stays quiet and hands him her water, as well. She’s definitely feeling a little buzzed, but she’d only had one of the free tequila shots (she’d been drinking gin, and she wasn’t one for mixing) whereas Archie...well. He could use the extra hydration. He rolls his eyes at her in a fond way that makes her stomach flip and downs the second cup, setting it next to the first once it’s empty. “Alright,” she leans up so she can speak close to his ear – it’s loud in here, okay? “Now I’m happy.”

Archie hums and she feels his fingers slide to her waist, then drop when he realizes what he’s doing. It takes a minute. “Shame,” he mumbles, dipping his head so his lips brush her earlobe. “I was thinking I could  _ make  _ you happy, but if you’re already there…,” he trails off, and Betty laughs.

“Oh, there’s always room for improvement, Arch.” Archie laughs and drops his head down, his forehead pressed to her shoulder. “Arch,” she whispers, her voice rough, “head up.”

“You’re just  _ hot,  _ Betty,” he mumbles, and she feels his lips half on the skin of her neck and half on her sweater. “I knew you were hot, I just...I still don’t get how you’re  _ this _ hot.”

Betty shoves at his other shoulder, laughing and ignoring the flush in her cheeks. “Shut up,” she mutters, shaking her head and leaning over the bar to ask for another water – this one to cool herself down. 

Veronica and her husband leave first, followed closely by Jughead and Tabitha Tate – Betty rolls her eyes when she hears Jughead’s bumbling excuse to no one about needing to head upstairs to Pop’s and clean up. Anyone with half a brain can tell they’re having sex, if the hasty way Jughead has thrown that platitude out  _ more than once  _ is any indication. She absently wonders if this is how she and Archie are coming off, but then pushes it out of her mind – there’s no way they’re not a hell of a lot more subtle, and she’s not sure she really cares, either way. Archie’s arm is draped over the back of Betty’s chair as he laughs with Sweet Pea about an action movie they’d half-watched the other day (she’s being generous, they’d googled the plot to fill the gaps after she’d crawled into his lap ten minutes in) and Betty slides her hand onto his thigh, tapping her fingers lightly against it beneath the table. 

Archie’s synapses are clearly slower than usual, but he manages to look over at her subtly enough and raise his brow in a  _ want to get out of here _ sort of way and Betty smiles, looking over to Kevin. “I think I’m going to let,” she pats Archie on the shoulder and raises her brows, “Sergeant Andrews here walk me home.”

Kevin raises his brows at Betty as Sweet Pea and Fangs mill around the table to slap Archie on the back, saying their goodbyes while Betty gathers her things and gets up. “You sure you two are okay? I can drive you.” Betty makes her way over to Kevin and leans down, giving him a one-armed hug. 

“I think the fresh air will do him good,” she says, her voice soft. Kevin looks at her knowingly, letting out a laugh and Betty rolls her eyes. “Besides, you have a boyfriend who doesn’t look  _ nearly _ ready to head home.” She nods her chin over at Fangs, who is showing Archie something on his phone and laughing.

“Alright, well,” Kevin wears a smug grin she doesn’t like much. “You two have a fun  _ walk,  _ then.”

Betty rolls her eyes and makes her way back over to Archie, putting her hand lightly on his shoulder and smiling when he looks up at her, his face soft. “Ready, soldier?”

The air is surprisingly cool as they make their way out of the Pop’s parking lot and down the main road. Archie seems to notice Betty shivering and slides his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him and pressing his face to the side of her head. “Cold, hmm?” Betty nods, burrowing into his side and letting out a little laugh. He’s warm from the alcohol, but he’s also just warm in  _ general,  _ she’s noticed. “I mean, I could always warm you up.”

“You are,” she grins, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“No,” he laughs, and she can hear it, the tequila sloshing in his low, tipsy laugh. “No, I could  _ really  _ warm you up, Betty.”

Betty squints up at him, poking him in the chest. She’s found out that Archie’s  _ like  _ this – an exhibitionist, kind of, when he drinks. Well, all the time, but  _ especially  _ when he drinks. She wonders if it has anything to do with being deployed, or whether he was like this before. It’s the kind of thought that makes her shiver, a little. “Arch, we’re going to be home in like fifteen minutes...you can wait until we’re  _ indoors,  _ can’t you?” He looks down at her, clearly unamused, and she lets out a laugh. “What?”

“Fifteen minutes,” he grumbles. “Fifteen too many, if you ask me. You’re frozen, Betts,” he slips his hand beneath her sweater, pressing his warm hand to her cold back. Betty shivers against it, hissing slightly. She’s not even that  _ cold,  _ but...well, it’s Archie. “Gotta get you warmer, don’t you think?” 

He sounds so genuine she can barely make out the smugness in his voice, but she can see it on his face – tipsy Archie and his overly confident smirk, his fingers flexing against her bare skin, slipping under the clasp of her bra. “Archie,” she laughs, shaking her head, but it sounds false to her own ears. “What’re you going to do, pin me against a tree?”

Archie chuckles, snapping the band of her bra against her back and smirking over at her. “I could,” he shrugs, “would you let me?” Betty shoves at his shoulder lightly, but leans into his touch and laughs up at him. She bites on the inside of her cheek. 

“If you…,” she swallows, peeking up at him and then looking back down, knowing her cheeks are red. She’s thankful it’s at least dark out, so maybe he can’t tell  _ how  _ red. Archie’s hand flexes against her back and she lets out a soft whine, turning her face and pressing it against his side. She hates that he’s  _ hot  _ when he’s like this...it would make it a hell of a lot easier to say  _ no  _ if he weren’t. “If you were quick, maybe.”

She feels him raise his brows against the top of her head and lets out a loud laugh, but it dies in her throat as he tugs her roughly towards a tree along the side of the road, a big oak that’s got dangling branches, hiding one side from view. She feels giggles bubbling up from her throat and slips one of her hands into his hair, tugging lightly on the ends. “I can be quick,” he mumbles, settling his lips against her neck as he presses her back against the tree, one of his hands already sliding down to undo the button of her pants. “For the record,” he rumbles against her neck, fumbling down to the zipper, “I prefer the skirts.”

“I thought you preferred the overalls,” Betty laughs, breathless, rolling her eyes as she scratches at his scalp, “moron.”

“Be  _ nice, _ ” he grins, scraping his teeth against her skin. She feels him pushing at the waistband of her pants and tilts her hips up, trying to help without moving her own hands, whining a little when she feels the rough bark of the tree up against her back where her shirt has ridden up a bit. He tugs at her pants enough to be able to slip his hand into them, an angry growl tearing from his throat. “M’gonna rip these fuckin’ things,” he mutters, and she yanks at his hair harshly. 

“Don’t you dare,” she breathes, tilting her hips up and whining when she feels his knuckles brush against her through her panties, “they’re  _ supposed  _ to be tight, Archie.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, pushing her underwear aside and groaning as he trails his fingers against her folds, “well they’re doin’ their fuckin’ job, then.” Betty lets out a laugh, shaking her head and then pulling his face to hers, finding his mouth and kissing him roughly, groaning when she feels his tongue slip into her mouth. Her hips search for his hand and she whines when he keeps it still, his chuckle reverberating into her mouth.

“Arch,” she sighs. “If you’re gonna do this,  _ do  _ it.” She rolls her eyes as he laughs, but his hand does rock against her and she moans, sliding her own hand up to his neck and digging her nails into his skin. He’s got good fingers – they’re long and flexible, calloused in a hot way, and he knows what to do with them, knows exactly where they need to go to make her scream. He slips one into her and uses his thumb to work her clit, curling his finger as his thumb circles her nerves slowly, teasingly. 

“Oh, you want me to do it,” he mumbles, his mouth trailing down to the spot below her ear she’s  _ told  _ him drives her insane. “You want this, huh?”

She whines, but he stills his hand and she wrinkles her brow, knowing he’s going to make her  _ talk –  _ he’s always doing that, making her talk. “I want it,” she breathes, swallowing and leaning her face forward, her mouth against the side of his head. “I fucking need it, Arch, you’ve been driving me  _ nuts  _ tonight.”

“Oh,” he chuckles, his voice low, dipping another finger into her and curling the two of them together, dragging them roughly against her walls. “I have, hmm?”

“Archie,” she growls, her voice firm. “Yes, god. You’re,” she swallows, letting out a deep moan. “You’re  _ you,  _ Arch.” __

“I’m me,” he mutters, his words slurring together as he sucks at the skin below her ear, his thumb pressing firmly into her clit, his fingers working her a bit harder. “What’s that mean, baby?”

Betty digs her nails into his shoulder – she’s told him repeatedly that the  _ baby _ thing has to stop, but it’s working for him right now and he’s  _ drunk,  _ so she’ll let him. “Means,” she whines, rocking her hips against his hand, sliding her other hand down to his forearm and squeezing it tightly, “you’re fucking  _ hot,  _ Arch, and you looked good in that bar, and I couldn’t  _ do  _ anything I wanted to you ‘cause you were too busy  _ trying to get us caught  _ every five seconds.”

“What’d you want to do to me,” he grins, lifting his face and pressing it to hers, ignoring the rest of her sentence entirely. He drags his lips along her jaw and then slants his mouth over hers, sucking at her lower lip for a moment before he releases it. “In the bar,” he curls his fingers a little more roughly, pressing them deeper, the heel of his hand brushing her clit, “you tell me what you wanted to do, hmm?”

Betty tilts her head back, her eyes falling closed as she feels her hair tugging against the bark of the tree trunk. “No,” she breathes, shaking her head. “That’s,” she rolls her hips against his hand, whining, “we don’t need to do that, we,” she bites down on her lower lip, opening her eyes and finding him smirking at her. “Finish me off so we can go  _ home,  _ Archie. I’ll let you do whatever you want when we get there.”

Archie shakes his head, the way she knew he would and Betty groans, digging her nails harder into his forearm, a whine ripping free from her throat. “Tell me,” he says, his voice low. He slows his fingers a bit, slipping in a third but moving them lazily, working her up. “Tell me, and you get to come.”

Betty arches her back, letting out a breathy moan as she rolls her hips again, searching for movement she knows he’s not going to give her. “I hate you,” she breathes, and he leans his head down, laughing against her neck as he nips at it. “I wanted to push you up against that bar,” she groans, pressing her hips into his hand, “and bite your earlobe and pull your hair.” Archie nods against her neck, his fingers starting to work her again, albeit still a bit too slowly for her liking. “I wanted to,” she swallows, her voice thick. “I wanted you to put me up on the pool table,” she rolls her hips hard against his hand, moaning as his thumb presses hard against her clit, then circles it slowly, “and fuck me right there in front of those Serpents.”

“Betty,” he groans, his teeth scraping her skin as his fingers push deeper into her, moving quicker. “You should’ve told me.”

“No,” she whines, pressing down against his hand, moaning as he fucks her with his fingers. “You would’ve  _ done  _ it, then,” she breathes, grabbing onto his shoulder and shifting her hips,  _ “fuck,  _ Archie.”

“You should’ve let me,” he pulls his fingers from her and she cries out at the sudden loss, her head spinning – she was _close,_ she was _so_ fucking close, what the _fuck._ She’s about to open her mouth when she sees Archie working his belt, and she moans instead of yelling at him, swatting his hands away and prying it open. She unbuttons and unzips his jeans before she tugs at them, springing him free and whining at the sight of him, hard and ready for her. “You,” he breathes, wrapping his hand around his length and giving himself a few long strokes, “wanted me to fuck you in front of all those people, hmm?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, her head still foggy, her hands moving to push at her own pants. She manages to get them, as well as her panties, off of one leg. She wraps her leg around his own and kicks her shoe off, hooking her bare foot against his knee and trying to pull him in closer. He stumbles against her and presses his torso into hers, Betty’s bare lower back digging back into the trunk of the tree. “Fuck, Arch,” she breathes, “I wanted you there, but I want you here,” she places her hand over the one he has wrapped around himself, “even  _ more,  _ baby.”

“You,” he drags his length against her and she whimpers, tipping her head back and trying to focus on her breathing, “want me to fuck you out here in the open, hmm? Where we could get caught?”

Betty nods, unable to speak, and rolls her hips against him. “Mhm,” she breathes, when he doesn’t do anything,  _ “please,  _ Arch.” He chuckles against her neck and she slides her hands up to his face, tugging him up so she can kiss that stupid fucking laugh out of his mouth.  _ God,  _ he’s hot  _ and  _ annoying when he’s drunk. She bites down hard on his lower lip and pulls, not bothering to care if it hurts as she rolls her hips against him, shaking her head. “M’gonna kill you,” she bites out before she kisses him, dipping her tongue teasingly into his mouth and moaning as he presses his tip against her entrance, then runs it against her again, laughing into the kiss.

He pulls his mouth from hers, reaching down with his free hand and grabbing her thigh, hitching it a little higher as he presses against her. “You gonna kill me before,” he mumbles, pushing into her without warning, “I make you come, Betty?”

Betty cries out, the feeling of him filling her, stretching her more welcome than it’s  _ ever  _ been – he’s teased her, but never like this, never almost to the brink, never  _ outside,  _ and she doesn’t know if she can handle it like this ever again. Her head is spinning as she reaches out to grab onto him, anywhere, finding his shoulder with one hand and his hair with the other. “Fuck,” she whines, swallowing thickly as she rocks her hips down, tipping her head back, “Arch,  _ god.  _ No,” she realizes his question, feeling it float into her brain on a delay, shaking her head and lifting her face, finding his eyes, “no, you’re going to make me come,” her voice is breathless, shaking. “You’re going to make me come, Archie,  _ now. _ ” 

He’s chuckling again, but he rocks his hips into her, sliding his hand down and holding her hip steady as he presses her into the tree trunk, so she doesn’t bother caring. He feels too fucking good, she’ll let him be smug about it. His strokes are long and deep, his cock hitting spots in her she doesn’t know if she’s felt before, period. She rocks her hips against him, whining as she tries to pull him closer. He nods, moving his hips roughly against hers – she’s glad he’s coherent enough to know that neither of them is lasting long, not after he’s teased the fuck out of her, not after he’s been fucking with her all  _ night,  _ basically. “I’m going to,” he breathes, his lips rough against her neck, “trust me, you’re going to.” 

She sees headlights flashing along the main road from the corner of her eye and grabs onto him tightly, sucking in a breath. Archie raises his brow and slows for a moment as the headlights pass, then lets out a low laugh. “Don’t worry, hmm?”

“I’m not,” she moans, rolling her hips, digging her nails into his bicep as he slows, whimpering as he rocks into her in response and hits her even deeper. “I never worry with you.”

Archie growls against her skin, snapping his hips hard against hers and sliding his hand off her hip, pressing his fingers down against her clit and rolling it roughly between them. She feels herself tightening around him, her body light, her thighs shaking. “Betty,” he breathes, his thrusts faster, more erratic, “Betts,  _ come,  _ baby.”

She swears he’s the only fucking person who’s ever been able to make her come on command – she whines and digs her nails into his neck, pressing her foot against his leg as she pulls him in further, coming hard around him as her head slumps back against the tree. “Archie,” she pants, “god, fuck, Arch,  _ shit,”  _ she lets her jaw fall open, her breathing heavy as she feels him still moving. It’s only a few seconds before he’s finally spilling into her with a groan and then pressing her further into the trunk. She wraps her arms around him lazily, giggling as he presses his lips to her neck, breathing hard. “Archie,” she whispers, after a long few moments of ragged breathing and little bursts of laughter from the both of them. “We’re  _ outside.”  _

“Mhm,” he mumbles, lifting his head from her neck, smirking at her. “You have one pant leg on.” Betty feels her face flushing, squeezing her eyes shut and laughing as Archie pulls out of her, whining at the loss as she settles her leg down on the ground. She steadies herself and opens her eyes, feeling her throat tighten as she watches Archie, moving slowly, finish getting himself back into his boxers before he stoops down in front of her. He untangles her underwear, holding it out so she can step back into it and sliding it up, then doing the same with her pant leg. He grabs her shoe, the one she’d kicked a few feet away, and slides it onto her foot. 

Betty slips her fingers into his hair, scratching at the back of his scalp. “Always the gentleman,” she breathes, as he stands back up and zips up his jeans, “even after you’ve fucked me up against a tree.”

Archie smirks at her, shrugging. “C’mon,” he says, his cheeks flushed, once his belt is buckled and Betty’s got her pants situated. He pulls her into his side as they start walking, Betty still a little shaky on her feet. “Don’t forget,” he mumbles against the side of her head, and Betty shivers. “You told me I could do whatever I wanted when we got home.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bettycooopers) or [tumblr](https://bettycooopers.tumblr.com) if you feel like watching me break down in real time!


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